


Betrayal

by alynwa



Category: Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-15
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-16 09:43:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynwa/pseuds/alynwa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a mole in UNCLE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The three UNCLE agents still sat around the table in Napoleon’s kitchen.  The remnants of their dinner, spaghetti and meatballs, breadsticks and salad, were on the counter and the dishes were in the sink.  Each held a glass of chianti that he sipped as they discussed ways to flush out the mole.

“So, so far,” Slater was saying, “Illya, you are proposing we set up a sting that involves sending my agents and yours to accompany a North Korean scientist and his wife who want to defect to the United States.  Said scientist has developed a weapon that will revolutionize modern warfare and give whoever possesses it the ability to practically rule the world, which puts it right in THRUSH’s wheelhouse.  Who are you thinking is going to be able to play those roles?”

The Russian looked at his partner.  “Napoleon,” he asked, “do you have a copy of the latest Survival School graduates list here?”

“I do, indeed.  Be right back.”  He came back from his office and handed a sheaf of papers to Illya who flipped to the third page.

“Yes, look right here.  Park Jung Loo and Kim Yong, male and female respectively, were assigned to UNCLE Seoul.  None of their classmates were assigned to New York, so no one here knows them.  They would be perfect to play our defectors.  They speak English, of course but, we will tell them not to which will necessitate our using Agent Lee as a translator while your guys provide security.”

Napoleon pursed his lips while he thought about what his partner was suggesting.  “If we do this, what would we tell the Korean agents we were doing?”

“Field testing,” Slater responded.  “We tell them that I am testing the field competence of my new transfers and that I want them to rate the agents on how well they handle themselves and their duties in what they consider a real situation.  The Old Man can tell Number One Asia whatever he wants; that is not our concern.”    

Napoleon smiled and said, “This could work!  I can have Miss Rogers tell Darla in Communications to let the new support staff handle the check – ins for the ‘mission.’   Then, we just monitor the lot of them to see who notifies THRUSH.”

There was silence as the three men examined the idea and mentally checked it for  holes.  Illya spoke first.  “I have to be a part of the detail.”

“Why you?” Slater asked, “It’s ostensibly a Section III operation, so why should Number 2, Section II go along for the ride?”

Napoleon leaned in to answer, “Several reasons.  One, Park and Kim will only be watching them to rate how they handle procedures; two, it is normal for a higher ranking agent to be in charge and since we obviously cannot bring anyone else into this and it would be out of the ordinary for a Number One of either section to oversee this type of mission, Illya is the logical choice.  Three, Park and Kim will be at a disadvantage because they won’t know they are possibly in the company of one or more traitors and someone has to watch _their_ backs and no one is better at that than my partner.”

“Really, Napoleon, you flatter me.”

Slater snorted and said, “Be that as it may, I think you’re both right; Illya should go along for the ride.  I know you just got back and I hate to say this but, you and the other agents need to fly to Asia tomorrow.”

“I know,” the Russian sighed, “The sooner we catch the mole, the safer we will all be.”

Napoleon refilled the glasses and said, “Then, it’s settled.  I’ll contact Mr. Waverly first thing in the morning.  Slater, you apprise your transfers of their assignment; Illya, speak with Agent Lee.  You’re on a flight to Seoul tomorrow night.”

The three men clinked their glasses together and drank.    


	2. Chapter 2

“Napoleon, this ‘mission’ has been such a, how do you say, _cakewalk_ that I am not sure what to do next.  The Korean agents have played their roles perfectly.  Agent Lee has handled her translation duties flawlessly; she is unaware that I speak Korean.  She has not mistranslated anything I or anyone else has said.  No one has paid any attention to us since we left UNCLE Seoul.  I am feeling frustrated.”  Illya was speaking into his pen communicator discretely while standing off to one side behind a column near their flight’s gate in Seoul Gimpo International.  “I take it that Darla has not noticed anything amiss with her workers?”

Napoleon’s voice was muted as Illya had the volume turned way down.  “None of them have made any unauthorized transmissions.  Every communication protocol has been followed to the letter Darla tells me.  The wiretaps placed on their home telephones have turned up nothing.  Slater’s people and HR haven’t come up with anything suspicious in anyone’s backgrounds, so far.  Partner Mine, it is possible we may be barking up the wrong tree.”

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

Slater Gray sat in his office with his legs stretched out so that his feet rested on his desk as he tapped a pencil on the pad he had been using to make notes.  _This isn’t making any sense.  Our fake scientist should have gotten some attention from THRUSH.  Illya and his group didn’t encounter anything out of the ordinary before their plane left Seoul.  Not even a nibble of interest.  We’re missing something._ I’m _missing something._ He threw the pencil across the room in a fit of pique and slammed his feet onto the floor.  _I need a change of scenery._ He grabbed his jacket off the hook and went through his door on his way to Communications.  _Maybe Darla’s got something._

Slater liked Darla Jenkins a lot; in fact, the two of them had been dating fairly steadily, though not exclusively, for four months and he was very happy about it.  He was thinking about asking her to go steady.  Unlike the Section IIs, personal attachments for Section III agents, though not encouraged, were not _dis_ couraged.  Some Section IIIs were even married with children, a position Slater hoped to find himself in one day.  _Maybe with Darla._

That thought made him smile as the pneumatic door to Communications slid open to admit him.   The desks were empty; it was lunchtime.  Darla let the girls on her shift eat lunch at the same time; she had told Slater she liked to have that hour to herself because she enjoyed the quiet solitude.  Even with agents on missions, there were few check – ins during that hour.  He knew she was all the way in the back in her cubicle.  The two of them had taken advantage of the empty office at times to make out and pet but, sadly, she refused his suggestion they make love in the office because she was afraid they might be caught and rejected his argument that the danger of getting caught made the sex that much hotter.

He could hear her talking quietly on the phone as he neared her cubicle.  The way her desk was placed, she would not see him coming until he came into view at the entrance.  As he got closer, it became easier to hear her side of the conversation.  What he heard made him freeze in shock.

“No, I told you; that North Korean defector is just a ruse, forget about that.  We have two agents in Laredo, Texas about to sabotage THRUSH’s lab across the border in Mexico.  That threat is real; the agents are two women masquerading as photographers and staying at the Motel Estrella.”  She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to see Slater standing there.  She smiled at him, mouthed _One moment_ and returned her attention to the phone.  “Maria, I have to go, Slater’s here.”  She laughed, said, “Bye” and hung up.     

“Hello, darling!” she cooed as she got up from her desk and hugged him, “How’s your day going?”

He returned her hug and then leaned back to look into her face.  “Darla, who were you talking to just now?  I heard you talking about ‘The Photo Ops Affair’ and Illya’s mission.”

Darla laughed and looked into his eyes.  “Oh, that was just Maria in Translations.”  She kissed him lightly on the lips.  “You want to take me to lunch?  The girls should be back in twenty minutes and then we can leave.”

Slater pulled back slightly again, his eyes troubled.  “Maria isn’t cleared to know about Illya’s mission and I heard you, I _heard_ you blowing Sanchez and Perez’ cover.  You’re going to get them killed; O God, you’re the mo…”

His body jerked as the hypodermic needle Darla had pulled out of her left sleeve jabbed into his behind.  “I am so, so sorry, Slater,” Darla whispered as she watched his eyes start to bulge and his chest heave as he tried desperately to breathe.  “This poison is quick, at least.  Your respiratory system is paralyzing.”  She guided him into the guest chair on the side of her desk.  “It will appear that you’ve had a heart attack.  If it makes any difference to you at all, I didn’t want to betray UNCLE; I had to.”

Slater’s breathing stopped.  Darla placed the needle at the bottom of her purse and quickly wiped the tears away before they fell.  _I did care for you, Slater but, I have to save myself now._

She walked out of Communications with a large smile on her face and went down the hall to the Commissary where she bought a bag of corn chips and two bottles of soda.  When she returned to her cubicle and started screaming, people converged on the area to discover Slater Gray dead and Darla attempting CPR and crying hysterically.  

 

 **Author’s Note:** Darla was first mentioned in “Of God and Goblins”


	3. Chapter 3

Illya’s flight was as uneventful as the entire mission had been.  When they arrived at New York HQ, they were met in Reception by Napoleon and a man the Russian recognized as Matt Christie, Number Two, Section III.  When the “hand – over” of the defectors took place in one of the conference rooms, Napoleon and Matt revealed the “true” purpose of the mission and praised their respective agents for a job well done.  The South Korean agents were also praised for being so believable and informed that a positive report would be forwarded to Number One and the CEA of Asia.  They were given tickets for a flight home departing in two days’ time plus cash and Broadway tickets and keys to a modest but, comfortable hotel ten blocks from HQ.

After the agents departed, leaving Matt, Illya and Napoleon alone, Illya looked from one to the other and asked, “What has happened?  I do not think the others noticed but, I could tell you were practically throwing them out the door.”

Matt rubbed his forehead and suddenly looked very tired.  “Slater Gray is dead.”

The Russian was stunned.  “What happened?”

“A heart attack,” Napoleon answered, “Darla said he had come to visit her and she went to the Commissary to get them something to drink and when she returned, he wasn’t breathing.  She freaked out so badly, she had to be sedated.  I didn’t know until then that they had been dating for quite a while.”

Matt said, “Slater had told me that he was falling in love with her.”  He swiped away a tear.  “Sorry.  It’s only been a few hours and we’re all still pretty much in shock in my Section.  Slater was a well – liked boss.”

Illya squeezed his shoulder in sympathy and said, “It is alright, Matt.  Forgive me for being cynical but, I do not believe in coincidences.  A man with no outward signs of health issues suddenly drops dead of a heart attack while he just happens to be part of a team trying to sniff out an infiltrator?  What does Medical say?”

Napoleon stood up and walked around the table.  “We thought about that, too.  So far, the preliminary autopsy results bear out a heart attack.  We won’t have the results of the complete autopsy for at least a week.”

Just then, Napoleon’s communicator chirped.  “Solo.”

Mr. Waverly’s voice came through.  “Mr. Solo, are Mr. Kuryakin and Mr. Christie with you?”

“Ah yes, Sir.”

“The three of you report to me immediately.  Out.” 

Napoleon stared at the communicator a moment before the three of them began to move to the door.  “Something’s wrong; I know it.”

Miss Rogers waved them into The Old Man’s office with no preamble.  They went in and sat while he looked at each one in turn.  He looked wearier than Napoleon could remember ever seeing him.  “Gentlemen, Agents Sanchez and Perez are dead.  They were shot to death at the motel where they were staying in Texas.  The timing of the killings eliminates all the agents that were with Mr. Kuryakin as “The Photo Ops Affair” had not started before they left for South Korea and they were dead before you returned to the US.”

Napoleon’s heart dropped and he closed his eyes.  _Those poor kids; just two years out of Survival School.  I assigned that affair to them because I thought it was a good fit for their first mission as Section IIs._ He opened them again to see Illya’s look of concern pointed in his direction.  _I’m OK,_ he signaled back.  The entire exchange took two seconds and went unnoticed by Mr. Waverly and Matt.

Illya stated, “Then we are back where we started.”

Napoleon shook his head, “Not quite.  Matt, can you find out what times Perez and Sanchez checked in and who they spoke to without going through Communications?”

Matt’s brow furrowed as he thought.  “Yes,” he replied, “I can access their computer logs directly by having Section IV override their firewalls and access codes.  I don’t have the authority to give that order.”

Napoleon looked at Mr. Waverly.  “Sir?”

Mr. Waverly harrumphed and reached behind him for his microphone.  “Miss Rogers, locate Miss Boyle and have her report to my office immediately.”  He put his mike down and said, “I have had enough of these leaks; Mr. Christie, you and Miss Boyle will work from this office.”

Number One, Section IV Aoife Boyle reported to Mr. Waverly’s office fifteen minutes later.  Mr. Waverly swore her to secrecy, had her manually override the system and wait in Miss Rogers’ office while Matt located and printed out the check in logs for “The Photo Ops Affair.”  She was called back in to reinstate the fail-safes when his task was complete.

Napoleon perused the log quickly and handed it to Mr. Waverly who read it and nodded.  “This is quite damning but, I want a trap set to be certain.”

Matt replied stonily, “Leave it to us, Sir.  I have a plan.”    

 


	4. Chapter 4

Darla Jenkins and Matt Christie were drinking coffee sitting in Napoleon Solo’s and Illya Kuryakin’s office at 8:30 the next morning.  The CEA and his number two man sat at their respective desks drinking bad coffee and wearing expressions that spoke of a long, sleepless night.  Napoleon put his cup down and addressed the people before him.

“People, finding the mole in our organization has turned out to be more difficult than I had hoped it would be.  Since none of our original suspects panned out we are back where we began, which is nowhere.  Unfortunately, the world isn’t waiting for our internal problems to be resolved; we have to move forward.  What I am about to tell you stays between the four of us and, of course, Mr. Waverly.  Understood?”

Darla responded, “Of course, Napoleon.”  Darla leaned in closer and asked, “What’s going on?”

“It’s time for the communication codes to change.  Darla, you know that normally we would just have your department send the codes worldwide electronically so that when the system automatically switches over we all have them but, with this mole still active, we can’t take any chances so, we are having agents from the other headquarters meet Illya at a room in the Carlyle Hotel tomorrow night to pick them up.  It will be the responsibility of each HQ to get the codes to their office locations before the switch occurs in three days.  Illya will check in at 6 and Matt will bring the codes at 6:30; the agents will come any time after that.  I need you to contact the HQs after this meeting to give them the contact name and the password.”

“I’ll take care of it as soon as I get back to my office, Napoleon,” she replied.

Illya interjected, “Good.  Matt reached out last night and this morning to his counterparts to inform them to send a Section III.  Tell each office that each agent must ask for Vladimir Sherapova’s room and use the phrase ‘The tulips are blooming in Central Park’ to gain access after they knock on my room door.  The whole process should be completed by ten.  Darla, do you have any questions?”

“No, Illya, I know what to do.”

Illya looked at his partner, who nodded and said, “Alright then, let’s do it.  Meeting adjourned.”  Matt and Darla stood up and left the office.  Napoleon picked up his coffee and took a sip; grimacing, he tossed it in the trash.  “You think she fell for it?”

The Russian’s eyebrows arched until they disappeared under his bangs.  “We will soon find out.”

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

Illya arrived at the Carlyle at six on the dot and presented his ID to check in as Vladimir Sherapova.  Once he entered his room, he conducted his security check and poured himself a shot of vodka.  Downing it quickly, he walked over to the door to the adjacent suite, turned the dead bolt and pulled it open.  A few seconds after he used his knuckles to rap a code on the adjoining door, it was pulled open to reveal his partner on the other side.

Napoleon flashed a quick smile and said, “Tovarisch, right on time.  There are four of us in here plus the four Section III agents masquerading as couriers who will be coming to your door.  If THRUSH is stupid enough to show up, we’ll be through this door in a second.”  He glanced at his watch.  “OK, Matt should be here any minute.  My door will be open on this side   See you later.”  With that, he signaled for Illya to close his door.

As he did, his communicator beeped; it was Matt advising him he was in the elevator.  “Excellent, Matt, see you in a moment,” he replied. 

After Matt came through the door, he opened his briefcase and pulled out four identical envelopes.  Each one contained the “codes” for communications between the offices.  “Illya,” Matt asked, “do you really think this will work?”

Illya stretched out on the couch like a cat.  “Oh, it will work.  This is a carrot THRUSH will not be able to resist.  If these were the real codes they were attempting to steal, their success would mean our interoffice communications would be compromised for at least forty – eight hours during which time THRUSH would run amok.  My instincts are telling me that they will be observing and once all the couriers have come and gone, they will make their move.”

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

Darla received a call at home two days after she had passed that information along.  “Miss Jenkins, all the agents have returned home and distributed the codes to their respective offices.  It’s time for you to deliver those codes to me.  Tomorrow after work, you will take a stroll in Carl Schurz Park.  There is a tree with a knot in it twenty – five feet inside the 87th Street entrance on the left.  Place an envelope containing the codes in there and then, walk away.”

“What if someone sees me?”

“Make sure someone _doesn’t,_ ” the voice snarled, “If I do not get those codes, I will stop making your payments and tell your… _banker_ to take it out of your hide.  I’ve heard he can be quite creative with a straight razor.”

“Alright, alright!  I’ll do it!” she yelled.

“I knew you would see it my way,” the voice purred back.  “It is _such_ a pleasure doing business with you, Darla.  Goodbye.”  The phone clicked in Darla’s ear.

She hung up the phone and cried.  She felt like a trapped animal and it was all her own doing.  For the hundredth time, she wished she could go back in time and change what she had done.  _I was a fool to get involved in gambling.  It all started so innocently; I was winning so much at the beginning.  When the cards turned against me, I kept thinking my luck would turn around._ She got off her bed and looked out her bedroom window at her view of the alley behind her building.  _When it didn’t and my money ran out, I asked for credit over and over again and promised to pay back.  And, I still didn’t win.  The loan shark wanted his money and when I missed a payment, he threatened to have me hurt badly if I didn’t bring money by the end of the week._

Her fists formed helplessly at her sides as she recalled what she did after receiving that threat.  She had gone to a bar on the East Side to have a drink and think about her situation.  That was the night she met Logan Crane.  _That’s probably not even his real name,_ she thought bitterly but, it’s the only one she knows.

_He was so handsome and so very charming.  He asked if he could sit next to me and when I said yes, he bought me a drink and we began chatting.  I felt so comfortable with him, like I had known him for years.  I found myself telling him about the predicament I was in and he said to let him think about it and meet him there the next day at the same time.  Looking back, he must have used the time to run a background check on me._

The next day at work, Darla felt like a weight had been taken from her shoulders.  She liked Logan and was looking forward to seeing him and for some reason; she thought he might be able to help her.  She cancelled her date with Slater and only felt a small twinge of guilt.  _Slater was nice enough but, kind of boring._

That night, she arrived back at the bar to find Logan holding a booth for them both.  _I would have been thrilled to see him even if he couldn’t help me but, when he said he would loan me money interest free until I was out of debt to my loan shark I said thank you but, I couldn’t accept; I’m not that kind of girl._ She remembered what he said then.   “ _I’m sure you’re not._   _This is not a gift, Darla; it is a loan.  You will pay me back but, I hope you will allow me to continue to see you socially.  Please believe me, though: One has nothing to do with the other.  If you do not wish to date me, I will still lend you the money.”  I remember thinking: I could love this guy._

He made three of the sixteen payments she owed before he revealed his true self and “asked” her for information about UNCLE.  That was when she found out he was THRUSH and none of it had been real; she had been just an opportunity that fell into his lap. _I was so stupid, I should have reported the entire situation to Miss Rogers immediately but, I was too ashamed to admit that I had a gambling problem that had gotten so out of control I allowed myself to be conned by someone I thought liked me and wanted to help.  Oh God, that sounds idiotic and pathetic to_ me!  _And now, it’s too late, people are dead because of me.  My only chance now is to run.  I’ll start over in some small town somewhere they’ve never heard of UNCLE and THRUSH.  Once Logan passes those codes along, everyone will be so busy performing damage control; they won’t notice I’m missing if I ask for the day after tomorrow off until I’m long gone._

 


	5. Chapter 5

Matt sat looking gloomily at his cup of coffee as Illya, Napoleon and The Old Man read Darla’s betrayal.  He had brought copies of the transcripts of Darla’s conversation with Logan Crane the night before to Mr. Waverly’s office.  Her phone had been tapped two days earlier as she met with Illya, Napoleon and him.

When they had finished, Matt said, “I came into HQ at four this morning and went to Medical.  We still have Slater’s body so I asked the Physician in Charge of the night shift to re – examine the body again and he noticed this.”  He produced a photograph of a man’s rear end and slid it around the circular table until it was in front of Mr. Waverly.  “Inside that red circle there is a needle mark.  Since the original cause of death was thought to be a heart attack, Slater’s blood was retested to look for poisons that would simulate cardiac arrest.  His blood contained succinylcholine.”

“Succin… _what?_ ”

“It is a fast acting poison, Napoleon,” Illya explained, “It is used medically as a muscle relaxant but, an overdose paralyzes the respiratory system and makes it look as if one has suffered a fatal heart attack.  It works within seconds so it is obvious…”

“That bitch killed Slater!” Matt finished heatedly.  “Sorry, Mr. Waverly.”

“You only verbalized what I was thinking, Young Man.  No apology is necessary.  Mr. Christie, you will arrange for someone to be in the park when Miss Jenkins makes the drop.  She is to be followed and apprehended once she is safely away from there and brought to me.  Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin, you will set up surveillance outside the park and apprehend this Logan Crane after he removes the ‘codes’ from the tree and bring him to me.  If he resists, dart him.  I want him alive.  You have your orders.”

“Yes, sir,” they said in unison as they rose to take their leave.  When they entered the hallway, Napoleon said to Matt as he pat him on the shoulder, “She is already caught, Matt.  There will be justice for Slater Gray.”

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

Darla handed in her badge at the end of the workday and exited the building through the support staff’s entrance down the street and around the corner from Del Floria’s.  That façade is a restaurant/coffee shop whose entrance into UNCLE is disguised as an “Employees Only” door opened by a keycard. 

She walked toward Carl Schurz thinking through her plan.  _After I drop this, I’ll head straight to Port Authority and catch a bus to Philadelphia.  Lisa approved my personal day so I won’t be missed until day after tomorrow.  I hate to do it but, I don’t have much choice the way I see it._

She looked around as she approached the drop site and seeing nothing amiss or anyone watching, she strode quickly to the trees, spotted the one Logan mentioned and with one more glance around to make certain she wasn’t observed, slipped the brown envelope deep into the hole, turned around and headed back toward the entrance.  She stepped to the curb and motioned for a taxi.  One stopped immediately.  She got in quickly and said, “Port Authority and please hurry!”

The cabbie tipped his hat, said, “Yes, ma’am,” and headed to Forty – second Street and made a right turn to head to the West Side.  They stopped for a red light at Forty – second and Third and suddenly both rear doors opened.  Matt Christie climbed in one side and a man she didn’t recognize but, assumed was UNCLE, entered the other side.

“Don’t talk, Darla.  You know what you’ve done and you know why I’m here.  Mr. Waverly wants to see you.  He rapped on the glass partition.  “TJ!  Take us back to HQ.  Use the garage entrance.  Oh, I’m being rude.  Darla, the man to your left is the new Number II of Section III, Agent Percy Robinson and our driver is Agent Thomas Jones.”

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

Illya watched from a parked van near the park entrance as a dark – haired man wearing a black suit, fedora, and a long black coat with a sky blue tie approached the tree twenty minutes after Darla left the park, pulled out the envelope and placed it in his inside jacket pocket.  Instead of leaving, he went to a bench overlooking the river and sat sideways with his legs up on the seat.  He appeared to be relaxing but, Illya recognized that this Logan Crane was surveilling his surroundings trying to ascertain whether or not he had been followed.  _This man is definitely an agent,_ he thought.  He opened his communicator pen and said, “Open Channel S.  Napoleon?  Where are you?  Do you see a man in black wearing a fedora on a bench by the water with his feet up?”

“I’m by the ferry terminal off 90th Street and yes, I see him.  I hope he comes this way; the other end of the park has the playground and all those mothers and nannies with their children and their perambulators.  We can’t chance a confrontation there.”

“He will probably choose that way then for just that reason.  Who is stationed in that area?”

“Matt has ten agents spread throughout the park.  You can talk to all of them at once on Channel L.”

Napoleon pretended to watch a pretty woman job past.  “I don’t want to arouse his suspicions so you pass along his description.  If he comes this way, he is mine.”

Crane sat, seemingly without a care in the world, for another fifteen minutes before he got up and, as Illya thought he would, started walking in the direction of the playground.

“Illya…”

“I see him, Napoleon.  Matt’s agents have his description; I’ll let them know he’s heading his way.  I’ll call you when the deed is done.”

Napoleon stayed where he was just in case their prey doubled back.  Twenty – five minutes passed before Illya signaled that Matt’s men had Crane in custody.  He walked up to the corner of 90th Street and East End Avenue and got into the van when his partner pulled alongside him.

“Well,” he said as he slid into the seat, “let’s go see what judgment Mr. Waverly will pass.”

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

When they arrived back at headquarters, they got their badges and walked through the hallway on the way to the elevators.  It was all over the building that Darla Jenkins had been proven to be the mole and had murdered Slater Gray and caused the death of two of Section Two New York’s newest, youngest agents.  Agents thumped them on the back and thanked them for a job well done.  Many of the support staff wanted to say something but, no one knew what to say so no one said anything.  Many were afraid that Darla’s deception caused them all to be painted with the same brush of mistrust.

When they entered Mr. Waverly’s office, they saw both prisoners were handcuffed and seated off to one side.  Darla looked ill and Logan showed no emotion at all.   They took their usual seats; Matt Christie was seated to Napoleon’s right.

Mr. Waverly lit his pipe; after a few seconds, when he was satisfied it was properly lit, he addressed the group before him.  “I will dispense with the pleasantries.  Miss Jenkins, we know that you supplied THRUSH, in the form of this Logan Crane person, information about ten affairs which greatly hindered the agents involved and jeopardized their safety and in three instances, caused those missions to fail.  The last failed affair ended with the murders of Agents Milagros Sanchez and Iris Perez.”

“We have also become aware of the fact that you murdered Number One, Section III Slater Gray we assume because he had discovered your betrayal.”  At that statement, Darla whimpered and Logan looked at her and shook his head.  “What I want to know, Miss Jenkins, is why did you do it?”

Darla sat up straight and said quietly, “Mr. Waverly, I made bad choices.  I began gambling in illegal poker parlors in Little Italy and Chinatown and went into debt and was threatened by the loan shark I had borrowed from.  I met _him_ and thought he was just being a friend when he lent me the money to pay the loan shark.  I didn’t know he was THRUSH; he blackmailed me.  I should have told Lisa Rogers as soon as I got in trouble but, I compounded my mistake by letting fear and shame keep me from coming forward.  I had a hypodermic needle with that poison in it because I was going to use it on myself if I was caught but, I panicked when Slater overheard me speaking to Logan and I…stuck him with it.  I’m sorry for that.”  

Matt’s eyes closed in pain to hear her speak about killing his boss.  “Darla, did Crane, did he…force you to sleep with him?”

As Darla shook her head, Logan sniffed, “I am an agent, not a rapist.  I did coerce her into leaking information to me but, for what it’s worth, I had no idea she killed an agent.”  He looked at her.  “You have sealed your fate.  You had a chance until that.”  He looked at the other men in the room.  “As for me,   I have no apologies to offer; like you, I have a job to do and I know the risks of the life I lead.  I accept your punishment.”

Mr. Waverly sat quietly for several minutes.  No one dared speak.  Finally, he sighed and said, “Logan Crane, you contributed to the deaths of three UNCLE agents.  I blame you for Slater Gray’s death as well as my two other agents.  For that reason, you will be sent to Tartarus.”  Crane’s face went ashen but, he accepted his fate silently.  “Miss Jenkins, I have no choice but to send you with him.  If you had come to us instead of betraying us, we could have helped you.  But now, you are a murderer thrice over and for that, there is no redemption.  Yours were the actions of a rogue agent so you will receive the punishment of a rogue agent.”

Napoleon and Matt, in their roles as Number One, escorted the prisoners to the door and handed them off to the agents in Miss Rogers’ office.  They watched as Darla and Logan were taken away. 

Napoleon asked, “With your permission, Sir?”  When Mr. Waverly nodded, Illya rose and joined the two men and they stepped out. 

It was finished and there was nothing to say.


	6. Epilogue

_Three Months Later_

Illya was at Napoleon’s apartment for dinner.  Afterwards, they were seated out on the balcony enjoying the evening breeze and watching the sky darken as the sun went down and the city lights came up.  He noticed his partner was staring out into the evening.  “Napoleon, what are you thinking about so seriously?”

“I was thinking about Darla Jenkins.  I wish things could have turned out differently for Darla.  She was an UNCLE employee for six years.  She wasn’t a bad person; she just made horribly bad decisions.”

“It is what it is, Napoleon.  You will only drive yourself insane going down that path.  Accept what has happened.”

“My fatalistic Russian, you have never wondered about the road not taken?”

“No and doubly no when it is not my path.  On a positive note, after Lisa Rogers discovered how many staff considered the counselors UNCLE employs as only for Section IIs, she developed an in – service training program for the support staff that stresses using the services UNCLE offers for _all_ its  employees, like counseling, when problems arise that are difficult to handle.”

Napoleon grunted noncommittally.  “Darla Jenkins will live on as a cautionary tale.  I guess some good came out of this tragedy.”  He did not seem totally convinced of that, however.  “Matt has proven himself to be an effective leader and successor to Slater Gray.  His speech at Gray’s memorial service brought tears to quite a few eyes, mine included.”

“I have to admit, Napoleon, that surprised me.”

The brunet shrugged.  “He was a fellow agent; his loss affects us all.” 

They sat quietly for a few minutes more.  Illya stood and stretched, “ _Moy droog_ , I am going home.”  He headed to the front door with Napoleon following.  As he put his hand on the door knob, Napoleon decided to ask him a question.

“Illya?”

“ _Da?_

“Do you think I could do what Mr. Waverly did?  Send an Innocent to Tartarus?”

Illya turned to lean against the front door and look affectionately at his partner.  “Is that what this is all about; thinking of Darla Jenkins as an Innocent?  She was not, Napoleon.  She stopped being an Innocent when she involved herself in The Game.  She knew what she was doing and what could happen when she handed Logan Crane information.  She knew what she was doing when she killed Slater Gray.  Yes, she made mistakes but, her biggest one was not trusting the organization to help her when it would have made a difference.  And to answer your question: No, Napoleon.  I believe you would _not_ send an Innocent to Tartarus.  When you become Number One, Section I, you will do what is right, just like Mr. Waverly did then and does now.  You are my partner; you are incapable of doing anything less.”  Illya smiled and squeezed Napoleon’s shoulder.  “Good night, _moy brat._ ”

“Good night, Illya.”


End file.
